Home > Rapture of the Deep(33)

Rapture of the Deep(33)
Author: L.A. Meyer

As I am pulling the frock over my head, there is a knock on the door, and after I say, "Come in," Joannie enters, bearing a tray with silverware, two cups, and a steaming pot of coffee. She also wears a huge smirk on her face.

"What's with the look?" I ask, thinking perhaps that Jemimah has been regaling the kids with another Rabbit Tale. But, no, that is not it.

She glances over at the rumpled bed and giggles.

Hmmmm...

"Never mind that, you," I say, sternly, "just set the table. Keep your mind on your job and out of other people's business, you hear?"

Just then Jaimy comes back to my cabin, looking grand in his tight pants, boots, and open white shirt.

Joannie looks at him and turns bright red, snorting with the effort to keep from laughing out loud with delight. She manages to get the small table set and then leaves.

I shall have to talk to that girl ... Grrrrr...

Jaimy seats himself, and I get up to pour him a cup. I am not used to doing this sort of thing, but I know it is expected, so I do it.

"Who is the girl?" asks Jaimy, plopping a few lumps of sugar into his coffee.

"Her name is Joan Nichols, and she is my ... responsibility. And if she thinks she is too big to be spanked, she is sadly mistaken."

Jaimy laughs. "You always did want things your own way, didn't you? I certainly recall your bullying the rest of us into submission on the Dolphin."

"Well, all of you were certainly in need of correction, that's for sure," I answer primly. "And I think you all were the better for it, so there."

There is a discreet knock, so I know it is not Joannie. The door opens and Higgins enters, bearing yet another tray.

"Good morning, Miss ... Lieutenant Fletcher ... I hope you slept well."

"Yes, we did, Higgins, and thank you," say I, seating myself at the table. Higgins does not have to do this, as he is the Chief Executive Officer of Faber Shipping Worldwide, but still I appreciate it.

He removes the covers of the dishes, revealing eggs with bright yellow yolks, bacon, sausage, fried potatoes, and buttered toast, and we fall to as Higgins takes his leave.

"This is really quite good, Jacky."

"Yes, Jemimah is a fine cook."

"Is she your slave?"

"No, she is not. Like everyone else of my crew, she is an employee of Faber Shipping and shares in all of our profits. When we have any."

"It was good seeing Davy and Tink again. Hard to believe so many of us are once again on the same ship. We lack only Benjy and Willie."

I imagine that all was easy between the lads when Jaimy appeared on deck this morning. I suspect there was a lot of male braying and punching and back thumping—anything to conceal the real affection between them. 'Course, as soon as the Dolphin gets here, his uniform jacket goes back on, and then it'll be Mr. Fletcher again and not their old mate Jaimy. That is exactly why I had asked him to leave it off, at least for now.

"We shall forever lack Benjy, at least till we go to our reward, but Willie we may someday see."

"And here you are with your own ship," he says, looking around at my neat little cabin. "Just like you always wanted."

"And there you are, a fine young Lieutenant in the Royal Navy. Something you always wanted."

"I have, however, not gotten everything I wanted, though." He looks at me with real heat in his gaze.

"Me either, Jaimy. Not yet, I haven't." I put down my fork and put my hand on his. "But we must be patient and hope for the future."

He nods. "I worry about that diving bell, though. It has to be dangerous."

I worry about it, too, I want to say, but I don't. There's no sense upsetting the boy any more than he is. "Tilly says we'll take it easy at first. I'll go down only five or ten fathoms," is what I do say. "You'll be standing by. You'll see. It'll be all right."

Again he nods, but he appears unconvinced. I try another tack.

"You should come down with me. Oh, just for a shallow dive. Tink is very good at making the goggles, and he could fit you with a pair. You'll find it is very beautiful down there, with fishes like little jewels, forests of waving ferns, sunlight streaming down. What do you say? It'd be fun."

His fork stops on the way to his mouth. It is plain that he would not find it fun at all. I have found that sailors would much rather be on top of the water than under it. And while I know that Jaimy would die for me—he has already proven that—he is more than a little afraid to dive down deep.

"Um ... yes ... ahem. Well, we shall see."

Poor Jaimy. I'll let you off the hook. "Well, perhaps we won't have the time."

His fork stays suspended in midair. "And speaking of swimming ... that ... costume ... you were wearing yesterday..."

"My swimming suit, you mean?"

"Yes," he says, reddening. "You have to wear that?"

"Yes, dear, I must." I put my hand on his, give him the big eyes, and recount for him the moray eel incident.

"Um."

"Don't worry, dear, my crew is well used to my eccentric ways."

"Yes, but the crew of the Dolphin is not."

No, but they will be soon, count on it.

"Please, Jaimy, I really don't mind."

"I believe I shall be confiscating telescopes," he says, cracking a slight smile.

I smile back at him, pat his hand, and go back to my breakfast.

"I think you ought to suggest to the Captain that a lifeboat be stationed several miles to the east, between here and Havana, in case the San Cristobal does come out. Then we would not be surprised and could get in fighting trim before she came upon us. We'd get the weather gauge and sail up wind of him and all."

"Um. Yes. Good idea."

I spear another fat sausage, and as I chew it, I ruminate. "Maybe the fact that you are out here will keep him in port, which would be good."

"How's that?"

"He might be afraid to come out. And believe me, he will know very shortly that the Dolphin is on station here." Many small fishing boats have gone past us on the way to Cuba, and they will tell of a British ship lying not far offshore.

"Hmmm ... I'm afraid Captain Hudson may send in a personal challenge."

"That would not be a wise thing to do. The San Cristobal is not the only Spanish warship in Havana Harbor. Captain Morello could bring out a fleet."

Finally, we finish up, pat our lips with our napkins—fine white ones with Faber Shipping's blue anchor logo stitched in the corner—and lean back to enjoy a second cup of coffee, and each other's dear company.

But such is not to be.

There is a knock on the door, and Jim Tanner's voice calls out, "The Dolphin is coming alongside, Missy."

I rise and take Jaimy's jacket and hold it open for him. "Come, love, you must dress, and then so must I."

He dons the coat, which I button up for him and smooth over his chest with my fingertips, and then I hold my face up to his.

"Now give your salty sea sailor lass a kiss, Jaimy, then off with you. It is time for each of us to turn out and tend to our duties."

Chapter 31

After I have put on my swimming suit and strapped my shiv to my calf, I pick up my goggles and head out onto the deck. I have a towel thrown over my shoulder, but I do not wrap it around me. They are just going to have to get used to it.

The raft is tied to the starboard side of the Nancy B., and the Dolphin looms over our port side. The great metal diving bell squats on the bigger ship's main hatch top and preparations are being made to hoist it up and swing it over to our deck.

I go to the raft, where I see that Joannie is already suited up and on it.

"Jacky! Look!" she cries, holding something up. "Tink has made these swim-finny things for us! Come on, let's try them out!"

Tossing my towel and goggles down to her, I step up on the Nancy B.'s starboard rail and get ready to dive off.

Once again I reach back with my forefingers to pull the back of my traitorous suit down over my cheeks—I've got to get that fixed—and lift my arms over my head.

"Eyes on your job, you dogs!" shouts someone on the Dolphin, someone who might well be Jaimy, "or your backs will pay, by God!"

I dive, and hit the water cleanly, swim a few strokes underwater, and then surface next to the raft and clamber on. I am now out of sight of those on the Dolphin, except for anyone who might be in the top rigging, above the Royal spars. The Top, however, does seem to be unusually well staffed today.

Am I showing off? Of course I am. It's in my nature, and besides, this is my ship, so I'll act as I please.

"Here, Jacky, look how cunning these are made," says Joannie. "Here's how they fit on."

The fins are each made of a wood shingle to which is attached a leather saddlelike thing that your foot fits in, with a strap across the instep to hold everything snug. Out by the toes, the thin end of the shingle has three very whippy pieces of leather affixed. I wave one of the shoelike things around in the air. It sure looks like a fish's fin.

Yes! Let's try 'em!

I lift my knees to my chest and strap on the fins. Joan-nie already has hers on.

We adjust our goggles, and I say "Let's go!" and we both roll over the side of the raft and into the water.

It takes a little getting used to, but as soon as we learn to wiggle our legs just right, we swim at least twice as fast through the water as we could before. We gambol about down there within the space of our two chestfuls of air and then joyously burst through the surface, side by side, rejoicing in our new agility.

"We have become true mermaids, Sister!" I exult, clasping her slippery form to me, and we both laugh and sing out our joy.

But then we stop, for over us falls a shadow. The bell has been hoisted and it is now right above us.

"It's too heavy for the raft!" I shout. "Put it on the deck!"

John Thomas and Finn McGee put their shoulders to the capstan wheel, winch the bell higher, and swing it back over the deck. Then they throw the ratchet bar and winch it down till it rests on the deck.

I jump out of the water and crawl over the rail, to stand next to the thing. I see that there have been some changes made in it. When I had last seen it, the lead weights keeping the bell upright and the air trapped within had been held by short lengths of chain. Now they are at the ends of six stiff legs, four feet in length. Plenty of room for the diver to get out beneath ... I hope.

I nip underneath and see the same thick wood bench for the diver to sit on ... and there are small viewing windows at either end of the bench. Some iron handles have been added to the inside, should things start to get rough, though I really don't know what help they would be if this thing were to tip over at two hundred feet below.

I duck my head and come back out and find Professor Tilden rubbing his hands in anticipation of a test dive of his wonderful diving bell.

"My dear, this is going to be such a marvelous thing!"

I stand there, the water still streaming off me, and say, "I hope so, Professor. The bottom is flat and sandy and only sixty feet below. It should be a good place to test this thing."

"Oh, yes, oh, yes!" he exclaims. "Let us get on with it!"

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